


Disparates

by R_R_Fox



Series: The Master and The Padawan [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 09:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18206570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_R_Fox/pseuds/R_R_Fox
Summary: Qui-Gon is encouraged to take a Padawan.  Epic fail.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My mother](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+mother).



_Master and Padawan should be as one soul in two bodies.  So when the choice is made, the Master should not only seek a Padawan of ability and moral character, but of similar mind and compatible temperament.  In this way no incidentals of personality will hinder the development of what should be a bond perfect and indissoluble._

_But what is of utmost importance is the mental state of the Master.  For when the Master chooses it should be only after deep reflection and serious consideration, and utterly without hesitation or reservation…_

                                                                                                                         -Jedi Master Polemon Krates, On Choosing a Padawan Learner

 

 

I have reservations about this,” Qui-Gon muttered to Yoda, who was seated beside him in the back of the class.  Yoda’s only reply was an encouraging smile, causing Qui-Gon to grumble, “I am only _looking_.”

“Yes, yes,” Yoda quickly agreed, “only looking you are.  But hush!  Master Tikkon soon will begin.”

Master Tikkon, a stern male Iktotchi with impressive horns, strode to the front of the classroom.  He was dressed in the traditional Jedi scholar robes, with their curved Anastan symbols of wisdom and knowledge.  Though he made no indication to the younglings sitting before him to give him their attention, they were immediately respectfully quiet under his gaze.

Without preface, Master Tikkon began.  “ _Good morning_.  We shall continue our discussion of the proper role of the Jedi.  Today’s lesson will be of a discursive nature, in which we shall discuss a hypothetical mission, to illustrate the principles we have recently studied.

“In our hypothetical scenario, a newly made Jedi Knight, on one of his first autonomous missions, had been sent by the Council, at the request of the Senate to apprehend smugglers who were illegally importing goods to an independent planet.  The government of this planet, which was recognized by the Senate, had requested Jedi assistance, as their own military and security forces had been unable to stop these smugglers.

“When our Jedi arrived, however, he found the situation to be more complex.  These smugglers _,_ although acting illegally, were providing needed medicines, food, and fuel, to a large section of the population.  The government was an _oligarchy_ , where a small portion of the noble class excessively taxed essential items to the point they became inaccessible to the lower classes.”

Qui-Gon, who had been quietly listening attentively, slowly turned towards Yoda.  “ _Hold on_ a minute,” he whispered, “Why does this lesson seem so… _familiar?”_

Yoda regarded him in abject innocence.  “Familiar it seems…hmmm… _think_ so, do you?” Yoda said, trying not to smile.

Master Tikkon continued, either not hearing or ignoring the conversation in the back of his class.  “Our young Jedi immediately informed the Council as to the situation, and was advised to return to Coruscant and file a report to the Senate, who could then initiate proceedings to rectify the situation.  The Jedi Council’s reasoning was that Jedi could in no way intervene with the economic policies of a sovereign planet.

“However, our young Jedi decided the economic deprivation was an imminent crisis, and thus could not wait for Senate intervention.  So, _disregarding_ the Council, the Jedi remained on the planet, and _pretended_ to help the government catch the smugglers, while actually feeding information to the smugglers, allowing them to avoid capture and safely deliver their supplies.”

At this point, Qui-Gon’s face became incredulous with a dawning realization.  He again turned towards Yoda.  “This is _my_ mission to _Ouisa_ , isn’t it!” he whispered fiercely.

“Told you, enjoy this lesson you would,” Yoda whispered in response.

“But, do they _always_ use _my_ missions as ‘hypothetical’ training situations?”

Yoda shrugged, giving him an apologetic smile, “Well, _interesting_ your missions are. But quiet!”

Again unperturbed by the comments from the back of his class, Master Tikkon continued the discussion, without interruption.  “Our Jedi continued to play this double game, until the oligarchy, frustrated by their failed attempts to root out the smugglers, began to escalate oppression on their own people.  Economic sanctions were increased; further aggravating the shortages to a level greater than the smugglers could provide relief.

“The Jedi made another report to the Council, and was _again_ told that it would be best to withdraw to Coruscant.”

“ _Now_ you know why I don’t think much of reports,” added Qui-Gon, pointedly, to Yoda, who replied with a rebuking look.

“Our young Jedi, not finding that answer to his _liking_ , took it upon himself to alleviate the suffering he was witnessing.  By day, he still pretended to do everything possible to apprehend the smugglers, but by night, he was a _smuggler_ himself!”

“Smuggler is a harsh word,” corrected Qui-Gon, but only to Yoda, “I wasn’t _smuggling_.  I was _appropriating.”_

“To optimize his smuggling operation, our Jedi realized he would need the help of someone _else_ from inside the government, as he would need the most classified military information if he was to smuggle effectively.  The Jedi managed to do this by means of…”Master Tikkon coughed, dryly, “a certain _flirtation_ with a high-ranking government official, who apparently had something of a _weakness_ for Jedi Knights.”

“I wouldn’t call it a _flirtation,”_ Qui-Gon mumbled, defensively, his face coloring a little.  “I didn’t _flirt_ with her.  I was _friendly."_

Yoda hooted in derision.

Master Tikkon continued, “The Jedi was very successful at his new ‘ _occupation.’_   The oligarchy, still unable to crush the smugglers, now decided to resolve the situation by force of arms.  They declared martial law, imprisoning and torturing those whom they suspected of having information on the smugglers.

“Our Jedi, not _bothering_ to send another report to the Council…”

“Well, when I saw how well the _last_ two went….” muttered Qui-Gon.

Yoda deliberately ignored him.

“…now told the leaders among the oligarchs that he finally obtained information that would lead to the capture of the leaders of the smuggling ring.  Playing on the oligarchs’ self-importance, he managed to convince them they should be there at the historic moment when the smugglers were finally captured”.

Master Tikkon now paused, with great drama, “But the Jedi did _not_ deliver the leaders of the smugglers.  Instead, he led the oligarchs to his _own_ smuggling ship, and then locked them inside the cargo hold!  All thirty of them!

“The Jedi Knight then suggested to them, through the cargo hold doors, that they should _reconsider_ their economic policies.  When his only responses from the oligarchs were angry threats, the Jedi responded that they should stay in the cargo hold and think about it, for perhaps the next _week_ or _two_.”

At Yoda’s look, Qui-Gon replied, “ _Don’t_ look at me that way.  They had plenty of food and water.  That’s _why_ I locked them in a _cargo_ hold.”

“Hmmmpf.”

“The oligarchs were stubborn, but within five days they capitulated and agreed to lift the embargoes, and allow a less restrictive economy to flourish.  After also agreed to a universal amnesty for smuggling, they were promptly let out.

“When the oligarchs were released, they found that the military, as a result of discussions with the Jedi Knight, would no longer support the prior restrictive policies.  Within a few years there was wider representation in the government, so, in short, one lone Jedi Knight, brought peace and prosperity to another planet in the Republic!”

“Such _melodrama!_ ” exclaimed Qui-Gon, in disgust, looking upward as if imploring for patience.  “He makes me sound like one of those ridiculous heroes on those terrible Jedi dramas on the HoloNet!”

Yoda gave him a hurt look.  “ _Like_ those shows, do I.  Shhhh!”

Master Tikkon was now looking intently at the younglings before him.  “The results were good, but the question remains as to his _methods_.  Would any of you care to venture an opinion on the actions of this Jedi?  Do you believe this is the proper sphere of a Jedi, or not?”

“I can’t believe this!” exclaimed Qui-Gon, to Yoda, slapping his forehead with his hand, “you can’t tell me that he’s using my mission as an example of what _not_ to do, is he?”

“Well….,” Yoda trailed off.

Qui-Gon was gratified, however, to hear murmurs of approval among the class.

“Being a smuggler is so _astral_!” chimed in one Rodian boy, excitedly.

“Those government barves deserved to get locked in, anyway,” added a red-skinned Togruta female.

A Nautolan boy, forgetting his manners, called out, “I would love to see the expressions on the Council’s faces!”  Almost all in the room, including Yoda, laughed.  Qui-Gon did not.

“No, you _wouldn’t_ ,” muttered Qui-Gon, grimacing.

“Some thoughtful answers, _please,_ ” snapped Master Tikkon, “it is now time for _discussion,_ not emotive outbursts _._   Need I remind you all we have guests today?”

To this, all the younglings looked back towards Yoda and Qui-Gon, and they quickly composed themselves, and, all sat a little straighter.  It was well known among the younglings which Masters did not have a Padawan, and they all wanted to make a good impression when one such Master was observing.

Sitting towards the front of the room, a small fair-haired human boy raised his hand.  At this gesture, Master Tikkon queried, “What do _you_ think… _Ben_?”

“I agree with the general consensus that the _results_ were good,” the boy said, crisply, “however, I fail to understand why it does not concern anyone that this hypothetical Jedi Knight disobeyed so many tenets of the Jedi Code.”

“ _Ben_ ,” the Nautolan boy called out, again forgetting to raise his hand, “you are exaggerating!”

Ben now turned half-around at his desk, to better answer the Nautolan.  His face was calm, for he had not taken offense at the objection.  “If you consider the _facts_ , you will see that I am not,” he replied, coolly.  “This Jedi was told explicitly by the Council that the situation was to be handled by the Senate.  He _disobeyed_ the Council, and began a game of deceit.”

Qui-Gon blinked, startled by the harshness of his words.  “Deceit?” he repeated, incredulously.

The Nautolan boy, obviously intimidated by Ben’s articulate speech, seemed unable to quickly answer.  Seeing this, a tall, dark-haired human girl, sitting towards the center of the room, raised her hand.

Master Tikkon acknowledged her, “Yes, _Atana_?”

“I would like to also answer Ben, if I may, Master Tikkon,” she said.

Master Tikkon smiled, pleased to see such debate.  “ _Certainly,_ Atana.  Please go ahead.”

“We can disagree on methods, Ben,” the girl said, earnestly, “but that is missing the point.  Certainly you see the Jedi Knight did everything for the greater good?”

Ben turning around further in his seat, to now face her, coolly shook his head.  “But his methods _are_ exactly the point.  That is the topic of today’s discussion, not sentiment.  His intentions may have been good, but many Jedi have fallen to the Dark despite good intentions.  Intentions are not enough.  In rejecting the wisdom of the Council, this Jedi presumes to be wiser than the Council?  This is _arrogance_.”

“But he _did_ know better!” exclaimed Atana.  “For in the end, everything turned out all right.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” agreed Qui-Gon, emphatically, to no one in particular.

“But what if it _didn’t_?  The Jedi Knight risked the escalation to war on that planet, and the lives of possibly thousands of citizens.  What of those who suffered due to the crackdown he brought about?  And what of the government officials?  Though they were clearly unethical, and did need to be stopped, but with an _illegal_ imprisonment, which could have possibly endangered their lives?”

“They _had_ food and water,” Qui-Gon whispered, angrily, to Yoda.  “Who _is_ this boy, anyway?”

“A youngling,” Yoda said, apologetically.

“Then what _should_ he have done, then?” retorted Atana, “ _Nothing_?  Allow the people of this planet to _starve_?”

“ _This_ one I like,” nodded Qui-Gon, in approval, to Yoda, “ _She_ has got some sense.”

“Of _course_ not,” replied Ben, with equanimity.  “But the actions he took were not his _only_ option.  He _could_ have approached the oligarchy honestly and appropriately to negotiate.  Then, if they did not listen, he could enlist the Senate’s help, by giving testimony and filing official report.”

 _“Again_ with the reports!” muttered Qui-Gon, grouchily.

Ben was continuing, “Instead, this Jedi decides to play a game of his own, involving deceit and the possibility of violence, endangering the very people he is supposed to protect, and compromising the dignity of the Jedi Order.”

“He had compassion for the people’s suffering!” Atana exclaimed.  “That cannot compromise the dignity of the Jedi Order!”

“His _compassion_ is not the problem,” contradicted Ben, crisply.  “But how do would seem if it became widely known a Jedi Knight had become a smuggler, an outright _criminal_?  Do you think anyone in the Republic would believe he did this solely to help the people, and not to help himself to profit?”

“I didn’t _take_ anything,” Qui-Gon exclaimed, then quickly amended, “Well, other than that _one bottle_ of Alderaan beer.”  At Yoda’s raised eyebrows, Qui-Gon added, “Loading up that ship with smuggled goods was hard work.  I was _thirsty_.”

Ben continued, “Jedi are not supposed to be deceivers and liars, for _any_ reason, no matter how good the cause may seem.  How can others trust the Jedi, if we stoop to double-dealing, and to lies?

“And, this is without even mentioning the questionable ‘relationship’ the Jedi had with a government official, which is not only an outright violation of the Jedi Code in regards to chastity, but also would make it _at least_ appear that a Jedi Knight was not above trading sexual favors for information!”

“ _What_!” exclaimed Qui-Gon, embarrassed.  “I didn’t _trade…”_ seeing Yoda’s curious look, Qui-Gon looked away.  “ _Never mind_.”

“It does not matter how things appear, Ben,” Atana retorted, hotly, “it only matters what the truth is.”

“ _Yes_!” agreed Qui-Gon, emphatically.

“Then if we are concerned with the truth,” Ben went on, just as coolly, “then the _truth_ is, this Jedi believed he knew more than the Council, directly disobeyed their orders, began a game of deceit, and risked people’s lives.  I admit the _result_ was a good one.  But do ends justify all means?”

“No…”Atana said, slowly.

“No, they do not.  That is the way of the _Sith_ ,” Ben concluded.  He then added, “The only redeeming thing I can say about this particular example, is that it must surely be _purely_ hypothetical.  I am sure if any Jedi were so _arrogant_ and so _disobedient_ , the Jedi would immediately be kicked out of the Jedi Order.”

Qui-Gon sat up in his seat, utterly speechless.

Yoda burst out laughing, not unkindly.  “Za’kalles the same thing often says.”

Qui-Gon was not amused at Yoda’s jest.

“If this Jedi was kicked out, then the Order would be the worse for it!” answered Atana.  Her retort was not a logical argument, but something she felt deeply, for now the girl had become upset, and her powers of debate failed her.

Master Tikkon put in, smoothly, “It is a good example that sparks such debate. Thank you, both of you. Would any one else care to continue the discussion?”

The discussion went on, but Qui-Gon was no longer listening, for he was exclaiming angrily to Yoda, who was sitting beside him, wincing a little.

“…who the _kriff_ is that youngling?  He practically accused me of being a Sith!  Game of deceit!  Criminal!  Claiming I should be kicked out of the Jedi Order, as if anyone would _ever_ …”at Yoda’s look, Qui-Gon snapped, “well, I _could_ have been kicked out over Kakuno, but I _wasn’t_!”

“Certainly _intelligent_ the boy is…”Yoda said, weakly.

“Yes,” Qui-Gon grudgingly admitted, “he is very intelligent.  And is good with words.  But what words he uses!  But _that_ one,” he said, nodding at Atana, “she’s not only smart, she speaks some sense.  _If_ I were to choose a Padawan…” seeing Yoda’s keen look at him, Qui-Gon quickly emphasized, “I said ‘ _if’_!  But _if_ I were to do so, _that_ is the sort of youngling I would choose.”

“ _Meet_ her, would you?”

“I am just looking,” put in Qui-Gon, quickly.

“Not an outright no, that is,” Yoda said, smiling.  “More to tell Dooku I would, if meet a youngling, or two, you will.”

“I suppose,” admitted Qui-Gon, reluctantly.  “I _will_ meet her.  That way Dooku will stop harassing me, at least for a while, and just _maybe_ he won’t drag me back down here to observe them again, and I will have some respite from having to listen to cutting comments from _Blondie_ over there,” Qui-Gon said, grouchily, looking back at Ben.

“Having a drill session next, the younglings are.  Much time to talk with her you will have, after watching the lightsaber sparring.  That way, the lightsaber talent Atana has, you would see.”

“That _could_ be of interest,” Qui-Gon allowed, finally.

“Until Master Tikkon is finished, wait will we, and to the drill room, go together we will.”

“I know where the drill room is,” answered Qui-Gon, raising an eyebrow, “or is it you want to make sure I don’t try to escape?”

“Shhh!” Yoda hushed him, instead of answering.

Master Tikkon was now making his closing remarks to his class.  “…for the Jedi, there is no _absolutes_ , only general guidelines, and thus, in the field, there are many decisions each Jedi must make for his or herself, with nothing but their _own_ wisdom to draw upon.  Before I dismiss you, perhaps our visitors today would like to comment on this particular _hypothetical_ mission?  Perhaps… _Master_ _Qui-Gon_?” Master Tikkon asked with a gleam in his eye.

The younglings turned in their seats to regard Qui-Gon expectantly, who, startled, finally managed, “Well… I would point out that since this mission is only _hypothetical,_ it would be impossible to make judgment as to what extent the Knight in question had been inspired by the Living Force.”

Master Tikkon nodded, not smiling, but conceding the point, “ _Quite_ so.  Then, if that is all, I would suggest that each of you reflect upon the Code of the Jedi, and what it means to truly follow it.  For next class, I would like each of you to construct a hypothetical scenario in which a Jedi must make a choice between strict obedience to the Council, or helping others in need.  We will then present our scenarios and debate them.  Good day,” ended Master Tikkon, dismissing the class.

Qui-Gon and Yoda followed the younglings out of the room.  “Well, let’s go see some sparring.  I actually would like to see that young Atana.  Not that I am taking a Padawan,” Qui-Gon added, hastily.

“Yes, only looking you are,” agreed Yoda, smiling.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The floor of the sparring room was still empty, for the younglings had not yet filed out to begin the drills.  There were, however, quite a few Jedi standing to the side.

“There is a crowd today,” remarked Qui-Gon.

“Compete in a tournament today, this youngling class will.”

“Then perhaps this _was_ a good day to observe.”  As one of the greatest lightsaber masters, Qui-Gon thoroughly enjoyed such competitions.  “  Qui-Gon gestured to the training floor.  “They certainly have not made it easy for the younglings.  They must be very advanced.”  The floor had been set up in a challenging configuration, sloped and uneven, littered with irregular stone blocks.

“This class, highly talented it is.  Enjoy it, I am sure you will,” said Yoda, casually.  “But perhaps make you enjoy it more, I can.”

“What do you mean?” asked Qui-Gon, frowning.

“Enjoy games of chance, do you?” asked Yoda, pointedly.

Qui-Gon smiled, “Yes, of course.”

“Make a small wager, with you, I will.”

“Interesting!  What do you have in mind?”

“If win your favorite does, then on your next mission of yours, to me, no reports you will need to send.”

“I like _that._   And if I lose?” Qui-Gon asked, suspiciously.

“Then, meet _additional_ youngling you will, besides Atana.”

“You _are_ joking, right?  The odds are very much in your favor.”

“Perhaps,” Yoda agreed, “but greater my _loss_ is.  Furious with me, Master Za’kalles would be.  Only looking you are.  What does it matter to you, to talk with another youngling?”

“It would make Master Dooku far too happy, if I spoke to a second youngling,” Qui-Gon said, smiling.  “But your wager _is_ tempting.  What other youngling would I meet, then?”

“Speak you will to the winner of the contest,” Yoda said, lightly.

“ _Done_ ,” agreed Qui-Gon, shaking Yoda’s hand.

“Bet on Atana you will?  Or another?”

“Let my choice be _Atana_.  I like the look of her, and she will bring me luck, I think.”

“See we will,” responded Yoda.  He had contemplated suggesting outright that Qui-Gon meet Ben if he lost the wager, but he had decided against it.  Qui-Gon did not want a Padawan, and after what had transpired in Master Tikkon’s class, he certainly would be resistant to meet the boy.

Yoda smiled to himself, for he did not have to suggest outright that Qui-Gon meet Ben, for he was the most highly skilled lightsaberist in the class.  In the end, Qui-Gon would meet the boy.

But what then?  “ _Like fire and water_ ,” Dooku had said, and he could not have been more correct.  Listening to the boy speak about Qui-Gon’s actions, made the vision that he had seen, of Qui-Gon choosing Ben as his Padawan, even more strange and incredible.  How it was to happen, he did not know.

But the girl…once Bellona, now _Atana_ , she would be a _perfect_ choice of Padawan for Qui-Gon.  For she was gifted, but more importantly, she was quick to compassion, and as mercurial, as the Jedi Master himself, who now sat beside him.

It did not surprise Yoda that Qui-Gon had shown interest in her, despite himself.  It would have surprised him more if he had _not_ , for Yoda had predicted this.

 _The girl is the key_ …Yoda thought, watching her.  He was so deep in thought that he did not catch what Qui-Gon was saying.

“…this new mission anyway?” Qui-Gon was asking.

“Sorry I am,” Yoda apologized.  “What is it saying you were?”

“I thought you would tell me about the mission you are sending me on, since we have a few moments before the tournament begins.”

“Yes,” Yoda said, focusing his thoughts again, “A simple one, this mission is, but perhaps, for you good that is, considering recent circumstances.  Prince Satra is to return home to Eimi, to finalize the peace between his people and the Ix.”

“I saw on the HoloNet something about this.  I have never met Prince Satra, but they say he is very different from his brother.  Which is a good thing, for if Prince Konos was still living, he would have been brought up on war crimes.  But with Prince Konos dead, the whole conflict is over and done with.  So what does he need with a Jedi?”

“Prince Satra worried he is, that certain individuals are against this peace.  He would like the Jedi to send someone for his protection.”

“So I am going to be a bodyguard to defend a paranoid noble against a conflict that no longer exists?  Ridiculous."

“Perhaps. But you suffer alone will not. Also send another Master we will.”

“I don’t need _quite_ that much supervision,” replied Qui-Gon, good-naturedly.

“No, as political it is, look better it will to send two masters.  Send with you, we will Tarquinus Caesi.”

“ _Tark_?” asked Qui-Gon, surprised, but pleasantly so, as he was smiling, “He has always been a friend of mine.”

“Knew you would be pleased, I did.”

“But I thought he was still in the Outer Rim.  He’s been out there for… over two years now is it?”

“Yes, but expected back in a day or two he is.”

“And he will be sent on another mission without a respite?  Good thing for him this mission sounds extremely dull.”

“Too much excitement lately, you have had.”

“I _suppose_ this is better than a five year suspension,” said Qui-Gon, with pointed emphasis, but lightly and without rancor.

“Knew about that, did you?”

“Master Dooku would not have it otherwise,” Qui-Gon said, smiling wryly.  “He thought it might _inspire_ me to change my ways.  But no matter.  I will take this mission you assign me, dull or not.”

Master Axiphos strode onto the floor, the younglings filing in behind him.  “Please take your assigned practice blades.  We will begin with a warm up drill, and when you are sufficiently ready, we will begin the tournament.”

The students, having quickly and silently obtained their blades from the cabinets along the wall and filed into lines in age order.  They then began the flow of forms, following the effortless moves of Master Axiphos.

Atana was easy to find, for she was a tall girl, and her flow of movement was graceful yet somehow dramatic, her long limbs having an elegant but impressive reach.  “There she is,” Qui-Gon said, smiling, “and she has skill.  I just may win my bet.”

As the warm up continued, with the younglings now allowed to vary and change the moves, the young girl began to add a few leaps and jumps, turning in space rapidly as she leapt into the air, and landing gracefully on her feet.  She was, of course, still practicing the basic and simple form of Shii-Cho, the style of all younglings, but, in the manner of all talented Jedi students, she had already instinctively varied the form into one of her own.

Qui-Gon nodded, satisfied.  Not looking at Yoda, but watching her, he said, half to himself, “ _That_ one is a natural practitioner of Ataru.”  Yoda smiled, for that was Qui-Gon’s lightsaber form, the form of intuition and trusting in the flow of the Force.

Yoda found his eyes going back to the small blonde boy, who was also distinctive.  While he was less powerful and dramatic than Atana, one couldn’t help but watch him, for his moves were exquisitely controlled and graceful.

“Also very talented, Ben is,” Yoda said, indicating the boy.

“Ben?” Qui-Gon asked, forgetting for a moment who that was, so intently was he watching Atana.  He followed Yoda’s gaze.  “Oh, _him_.”  Qui-Gon appraised the boy’s style, for as one of the greatest of the lightsaber masters, Qui-Gon had a keen insight as to when others had such a gift.

Qui-Gon nodded, grudgingly, “Well, Blondie has talent, I will give him that.  He is very _controlled_.  Not the sort to do Ataru, and it is just as well, since I can’t imagine he would be well suited for it.”  Shrugging, he turned his eyes back towards Atana.

Master Axiphos clapped his hands, indicating the students should cease their warm up.  “My assistants…” Master Axiphos paused to indicate the students from a younger age group who were now entering the room “will direct you to your initial pool of competitors, where they will referee the bouts.  There will be five in each pool, and you will face each person in your pool.  Each bout will be a three-touch bout.  A composite standings will be assembled, and the top twenty will move on to the next around.”

The assistants moved among their elder classmates, datapads in their hands, directing the competitors to their proper area.

Atana, smiling, strode to the location of her pool, which happened to be fairly close to where Qui-Gon and Yoda were sitting.

“What luck! I can easily see her wins!” said Qui-Gon.

“Yes,” agreed Yoda, absently.  He was watching Ben calmly walk to a location along the far wall.  Being small for his age, he was difficult to see as there were several groups of younglings obscuring him from their sight.

Qui-Gon intently watched Atana during her bouts.  She easily defeated the other younglings in her pool.  Her movements were impressive in their power and speed.  Every time she used the Force to leap and somersault in the air, Qui-Gon smiled, for the girl moved with the passion and spontaneity of an Ataru Master.

On the other side of the room, young Ben was quickly winning against his opponents, as well, although Qui-Gon did not notice.  This was not surprising, for not only was Ben across the room, his style was highly deceiving, for it was not aggressive or flashy.  The boy calmly analyzed his opponent as he sparred, never losing concentration or control.  He retreated frequently, yet was impossible for his opponent to hit, and he landed his touches with quick, short, and simple strikes.  After he defeated them, his opponents stepped away in confusion.

After the final bouts ended, Master Axiphos clapped his hands, calling for everyone’s attention.  “We shall rest while the scores are tallied.”

During the break, some younglings stretched sore muscles, others went to gather the snack they had brought, and others simply talked amongst themselves, mostly about the bouts they were just in.

Ben had gone by himself to get a drink from one of the stone water jars at the entrance of the room.  He drank deeply, the only indication he had exerted himself.  Atana was standing with some of her friends.  Though she was the center of her friends’ attention, she did not notice, and spoke very little.  She mostly listened to what her friends had to say, and gave them her complete attention while she listened, smiling and touching a few of them on the arm for support, when they needed it.

Qui-Gon, still observing her, was impressed how attentive and concerned she seemed towards her friends.  He then noticed the green braided cord, tied so it fell just below her collarbones.  “What’s that about her neck?” Qui-Gon asked,  “That’s not a _lethe_ cord, is it?”

“Yes.  A _lethe_ cord, it is.”

“I have never seen one, outside depictions on datapads.  I wanted to ask you, why did you bring the _Katharmos_ back?”

“Needed it was,” Yoda only said.

“I’m surprised someone chose her for the ceremony.  Let me guess, she was too _emotional_ , too _stubborn_ , and too _reckless_?  Something like that?”  Qui-Gon asked, smiling at Yoda’s nod.  Qui-Gon went on, still smiling, “I am _glad_ there was no _Katharmos_ ceremony when _I_ was a youngling; for I _definitely_ would have been selected for it.”

“No, selected you would not have been,” corrected Yoda, with some asperity, “Chosen by Dooku you were at an exceptionally young age.  For only ten you were.”

“And Master Dooku says it was a lucky thing, for I hadn’t yet revealed all my worst traits,” laughed Qui-Gon.  “Though, to make up for it, I think he would try and select me for the _Katharmos_ ceremony _now,_ if he could _._   But in any case, Atana and I are kindred spirits, for I know a _little_ something about those flaws.”

Before Yoda could reply, Master Axiphos again clapped his hands to gather everyone’s attention.

“The results have been tallied.  We will separate the twenty younglings who will be advancing into four pools of five.  My assistants will now distribute the results.  You will have a few minutes before we begin the next round.”

The participants crowded around the assistants to see if they made it to the next round.  Those who did not took a seat on the benches along the walls to watch the rest of the competition.  Ben and Atana finished tied for the top seed, as both were undefeated and did not have a single touch scored against them.  As such, they were separated into different pools.

“I am one step closer to winning the bet,” smiled Qui-Gon.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Yoda countered.

Again, Qui-Gon focused on watching Atana’s bouts, even though his vantage point wasn’t as good for this round.  She drew upon the Force for her intense attacks, and executed controlled Force leaps to avoid her opponent’s blade.

Ben, conversely, became even more inconspicuous than before, though his progressions through the bouts were just as successful as Atana.  His handwork was even more rapid than before, but still exquisitely controlled, each attack by his opponent was answered with a perfect parry, each attack of his own landed with precise point control.

Again, when the final bouts of the round were completed, Master Axiphos clapped his hands to gather everyone around him.  “We again shall have a short break while we tally the results.  The top ten will move into a direct elimination format, with the top six receiving a bye for the next round.”

Qui-Gon turned to Yoda, “I bet Atana is one of those who receives a bye.”

“Take that bet, I would not.  Very well she has done.”

The younglings talked less among themselves, for the round had been a fatiguing one, instead, they stretched muscles or drank fluids in greedy gulps.  Atana was alternating standing and squatting, hands on both her thighs, stretching out her burning muscles.  Ben was practicing some extensions and parries, intently concentrating on some thoughts of his own.

Before long, the results were announced, and as Qui-Gon predicted, Atana, as well as Ben, received a bye for the next round.  This round only consisted of two bouts, which were quickly fought.  There were now eight remaining competitors.

Master Axiphos again announced the proceedings.  "This round of direct elimination will consist of four bouts, which will transpire simultaneously.  Please proceed to your assigned areas.”

Ben and Atana, still tied for the top seed, faced their opponents on the far side of the room.  Both bouts ended quickly, and both Ben and Atana were victorious.

After the round, Master Axiphos clapped for everyone’s attention.  “There are now four students left.  Please step forward when I say your name.  Kaatan Ka.” there was some applause as a slender Togruta male with red and white stripes came forward.  He bowed nervously to Master Axiphos and the other students.  “Theoria Enelix” the students continued to applaud as a tall muscular green-skinned Iridonian female came from the crowd.  She was grinning and raised her hands in triumph.  “Atana.”  As Atana walked forward, the cheers for her were the loudest of all.  She bowed to Master Axiphos and gave the youngling crowd a beautiful smile.  “Ben.”  For Ben, there was polite applause, but without any enthusiasm.

“As before, these will be three touch elimination bouts.  As Ben and Atana are tied for the top seed, I have had to determine their order randomly.  Atana will take the top spot, and will face Kaatan Ka first.  Ben and Theoria Enelix will face each other immediately thereafter.  I will preside over these final contests.”

“Atana will have a challenge here,” said Qui-Gon, thoughtfully, “for he is a calm one, and not easily overwhelmed.  Although he is not quite as good as the Iridonian.  Atana will win.”

Yoda nodded silently, for the floor was quiet, as Master Axiphos had indicated the match was about to begin.

Master Axiphos raised his hand, and then silently lowered it, the signal that the younglings should begin the contest.

Immediately, Atana sprang into action, as if fresh to combat that day.  Leaping into the air, she executed a perfect Force jump, which broke the distance between herself and Kaatan.  The Togruta had readied himself, but was not prepared for such a lightening fast and perfectly executed leap.  He retreated back, awkwardly, which allowed her to land a touch on his left shoulder.

“It is Atana’s point.  The score is 1-0, Atana,” stated Master Axiphos.  “Combatants, to your corners.”

“Excellent touch, that was,” remarked Yoda.

“Yes,” agreed Qui-Gon, “but he will not fall for that again.”

Atana was of a similar mind, for at Master Axiphos’ gesture she did not leap again.  Still, she approached the Togruta aggressively, her moves controlled, but only just, her arms moving in graceful and passionate motion.

The Togruta kept his nerve, but he could not match her speed.  He tried an attack of his own, a quick lunge, only to find himself parried and quickly touched on the arm by Atana’s counterattack.

“It is Atana’s point,” proclaimed Master Axiphos, “The score is 2-0, Atana.  Combatants, to your corners.”

Kaatan, now chose the defensive game, and retreated in anticipation of her attack.  Leaping backwards in front of Atana’s aggressive approach, Kaatan now had the extra distance he needed for his hand to match the speed of hers.  There was a quick succession of rapid hisses as the blades made contact, the Togruta matching each attack with a parry.

Then, suddenly, instead of retreating, he stepped towards Atana as she attacked.  Atana, who had been preparing to launch a new attack, was unprepared for this action, for her blade, held with two hands, was still raised above her own head in mid-swing.  Kaatan pressed her momentary inability to defend, for he was now too close for this attack to be effective; for they were now no more than fifteen centimeters apart.  He quickly angled his blade, and hit her on the forehead with a quick cut.

Atana was clearly surprised by his maneuver.  She stepped back from Kataan, smiled, and saluting him with her practice blade for such an excellent attack.

“She _is_ something,” exclaimed Qui-Gon, in admiration, watching the girl intently.  “She will make quite a Jedi someday.”

“Yes,” granted Yoda, “particularly if a good Master she finds.”

Qui-Gon gave him a sharp look before turning back to watch the match, but Yoda noticed that this time he did not insist he was only looking.

“It is Kaatan’s point.  The score is 2-1, Atana,” announced Master Axiphos.  “Combatants, to your corners.”

While most would have become more conservative after being struck overextending themselves, Atana did not, for she lunged with passion, and with courage, not fearing defeat or the pain of the blade.  The Togruta, expecting Atana to be more defensive, retreated awkwardly.  With one dramatic move, Atana let go of the blade with her left hand, and lunged holding the blade solely with her right.  So deep was her lunge that her arm was only half a meter from the ground.  Her upturned face exposed her white neck to Kaatan’s blade, yet her courage served her well, for in that attack she got the touch upon Kaatan’s upper leg.

Qui-Gon sucked in a breath in astonishment.  “This one has heart!” he exclaimed in admiration, his eyes shining.

The younglings, who had been silent up to this point, broke into a spontaneous cheer at the brilliance of the attack.

Atana smiled widely at their praise.  She then went up to Kaatan to shake his hand.  The boy pumped her hand awkwardly, but he, too, smiled, when Atana put an arm around him, and turned him to face the seated younglings, so that he, too, could be the recipient of the applause.  The younglings cheered loudly at her gallantry.  The two opponents, now smiling at each other, took seats on a bench, side by side.

After a moment, Qui-Gon spoke, so softly it was almost impossible to hear over the applause, “Such _heart_ ,” he repeated, “I…would _like_ to meet her.”

Master Axiphos called out, crisply, “That is enough, please.  The match is Atana’s.  The final score is 3-1.  Very good match, although Kaatan, you were perhaps _too_ timid at some points, and Atana, you seemed _very_ close to losing control.  But now, let us have silence for the match between Enelix and Ben.”

The two opponents were a match in opposites.  Enelix was a large girl, not excessively tall, but well muscled and mature for her age.  She was a vigorous and dangerous opponent, for in her previous matches she demonstrated remarkable speed and accuracy.  Even now, as she stretched for before the match, her movements proclaimed quick acceleration and reach.

Ben did not act intimidated, although he was small and slight for his age, more lean than heavily muscled.  He was not leaping or stretching, instead calmly balanced the weight of the practice blade in his hand while carefully watching the Iridonian with those clear blue eyes of his.

“This will also be an interesting match,” remarked Qui-Gon, observing them both.  “Iridonians are, by nature, fierce and very aggressive, so facing one in battle is always a dangerous thing.  However, she may have met her match in Blondie.  He is not very flashy, but he _is_ very observant.  There _is_ a reason why he has gotten this far.”

Yoda nodded, but did not speak, for Master Axiphos had lowered his hand, the gesture for the match to begin.

Enelix advanced forward, moving upon the boy aggressively, who retreated smoothly at the sudden advance.  The Iridonian pressed the boy to the very end of the combat area with her powerful advances and aggressive lunges.  There were a few murmurs at the audacity of her attack.

Ben, anticipating her next lunge, caught her blade with his at the perfect angle such that he could angle his down and touch her on the arm, without releasing her blade.  The Iridonian, as she straightened up, shook her head, as if shocked at the loss.

It seemed even Master Axiphos was surprised, for it took him a moment to announce, “It is _Ben’s_ point.  The score is 1-0, Ben.  Combatants, to your corners.”

Qui-Gon nodded appreciatively, but said nothing.

Master Axiphos raised his hand again, and then lowered it, so the match could begin once more.

Enelix was more cautious at this turn, pressing forward, but not so aggressively.  Ben, for his part, retreated and parried well.  The two of them were beautiful to see in their combat, for the attack and parry and counterattack were well executed and in beautiful rhythm.

Ben seemingly began to tire, for his attacks began to slow down, which only encouraged Enelix to increase her aggression, striking out at his blade and pushing Ben backwards.  It would be her point in only a few moments.

But Ben’s fatigue was only a ruse, for suddenly he broke this rhythm by increasing the speed of his attack, parrying and counterattacking with lightening speed.  Enelix’s surprise was clearly seen on her face, but with her reflexes she found the parry in time.  However, her retreat was too small, and Ben quickly disengaged from her parry and landed a cut on her side.

“It is Ben’s point,” announced Master Axiphos, nodding his head, approvingly.  “The score is 2-0, Ben.  Combatants, to your corners.”

“He has analyzed her game,” Qui-Gon remarked, with grudging admiration.

“Yes, very well,” agreed Yoda.

When the attack began again, Enelix wisely changed her strategy, drawing upon her strengths by using powerful and overwhelming attacks, changing her moves randomly, thus there was no pattern to her attacks.  The boy met her blade for blade, parrying and retreating, his own hand as quick as hers and remarkably controlled.  Enelix finally attacked towards Ben’s shoulder with all her might.  Ben met the attack with his parry, but, by over emphasizing control rather than power, he met her blade too close to his body, and the force of Enelix attack pushed Ben’s saber back enough so that her blade barely, and rather gently, touched Ben’s arm.

“It is Enelix’s point,” stated Master Axiphos.  “The score is 2-1, Ben.  Combatants, to your corners.”

Ben nodded, his face expressionless as he took his position for the next round.  Enelix bared her teeth in a grimace of pleasure, but also fatigue.

Enelix, with increased confidence, pressed her attack, pushing the boy further and further back, as he continued to parry and retreat.  He didn’t attempt a counterattack, instead only defending.  Enelix’s blade shrieked and hissed as she battered it against his blade, each attack of hers replied with an efficient parry.

Enelix had now driven Ben to the very end of the strip, where he could retreat no further.  Enelix grinned, thinking she had Ben cornered, and it would soon be her touch.  At this point, Ben became transformed into a whirlwind of energy, turning on her with an aggression of his own.  The Iridionian was not prepared for such a reversal and struggled to defend herself, quickly retreating and parrying, but to no avail, for one of Ben’s attacks landed precisely in the hollow of her throat.

“The match is Ben’s” Master Axiphos announced.  “The final score is 3-1.  There will be a five minute rest before the final match.”

There was no applause, but an appreciative murmur came from the younglings.  Ben did not notice.  He politely bowed to his opponent, and then to Master Axiphos, as was custom, before striding off the strip to sit down.

“He’s a cold-blooded one,” remarked Qui-Gon, “but that is why he is so good at strategy.  It will make the next match more interesting, when—Wait a moment!  If Blondie wins the next match…”

“Then meet him you will,” finished Yoda, trying not to smile.

“You _are_ jesting, right?  You would _not_ put me through that, would you?  After what he said in the classroom?”

“Want a reputation, do you, for when you wager, not keeping your word?”

“No but—”

“Then if he wins, meet him you will.”

“How about someone _else_?  I thought the point was I should meet someone I might _possibly_ choose as a Padawan.”

“To meet him, the wager is, not him as a Padawan take.  Meet him you will, if wins does he,” Yoda said, firmly.

“But _why_ do you want me to meet him?  Wouldn’t you rather I met someone I might actually _like_?  For instance, I think I might get along with that Iridonian, Enelix.”

“See your point I do.  But, as only looking you are, what matter does it?  But, if wins, the boy does, and meet you do with the two younglings he defeated, feel bad he might, especially since such great lightsaber master you are.  Also, would notice this slight, the other younglings would.”

“ _Alright_ then,” Qui-Gon grudgingly conceded.  “But now I _really_ hope Atana wins.”  He laughed a little, shaking his head, self-deprecatingly, “You know, if I had _any_ sense, I would have picked _Blondie_ to win.  That way, if my choice won, I would only have to meet who I _want_ to meet—Atana.  And if Atana won, I _still_ would only have to meet her, as the winner of the contest.”

“True,” Yoda replied.  “But, decide with your heart, you often do, not with your mind.”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond, but Master Axiphos cut him off from the center of the room.  “We will now have the final match.  These two students are among the best of the class, so please use this match as learning opportunity.  Atana and Ben?”

Both opponents found their corners, between the two saber masters.  Atana nodded at Ben and managed a nervous smile.  Ben, his face utterly serious, returned a graceful bow.

There was not a single sound in the room, with all the younglings and masters silently regarding the two opponents.  Master Axiphos suddenly dropped his hand, starting the contest.

Atana sprang forth aggressively, doing a tremendous Force jump that cleared the distance between them.  It was similar to the brilliant attack she had used successfully against Kaatan Ka.  However, Ben, who had watched that bout and was thus expecting this, executed a Force Jump of his own, but backwards, landing safely out of reach of her blade.  Atana was now overextended, as she had been certain her attack would have landed.  Before she could recover, Ben moved forward and touched her upon the arm with a quick lunge.

“It is Ben’s point,” announced Master Axiphos, “the score is 1-0, Ben.  Combatants, to your corners.”

When Master Axiphos lowered his hand again, Atana did not advance, instead, she began to retreat to Ben’s advances, forcing him to become the aggressor, parrying each of his attacks and retreating out of distance.

Atana then turned on her opponent, in an attempt to catch Ben unawares with a sudden aggressive flurry of attacks.  But Ben was more than ready for this change of pace.  He quickly parried and retreated out of range before responding with counterattacks of his own, which were perfectly parried by Atana.  This beautiful dance of retreat and lunge continued back and forth across the combat area, as each attack was answered accurately and quickly.

Atana broke the rhythm by taking an extra step back, and then took a long swing downward with her blade, which hummed in the air as she rapidly brought it towards the side of Ben’s head.  There was a shriek and a hiss as the blades met, for Ben had the parry, just in time.  Atana pressed the attack, as Enelix had, but this time, Ben, now prepared for this strategy, was able to push back on Atana’s blade.  Atana then abruptly released Ben’s blade, causing him, for the first time that day, to momentarily lose control of his blade; her release caused it to jerk forward.  Ben quickly regained control, but it was too late.  Atana had swung her blade back around, and touched him on the opposite side.

“It is Atana’s point,” said Master Axiphos, “The score is 1-1, tied.  Combatants, to your corners.”

Ben nodded in acknowledgement.  There was no resentment on his face, any more than there had been triumph before.  He stood in defensive neutral, awaiting Atana’s attack as Master Axiphos lowered his hand.

Atana leapt forward, initiating the attack again, which was met rapidly by Ben’s parry.  The dance of attack met by parry began as before, their hands moving astonishingly fast as their blades screamed and hissed.

Atana, as before, took an extra retreat, but Ben had been waiting for this.  Before she could take an aggressive attack, like which lead to her last touch, Ben executed a fleche, the running attack.  Despite the aggression of the attack, and seemingly reckless motion of his body, his blade was completely controlled, and hardly moved.  Ben’s attach carried him past Atana, so their backs were now towards each other, but as Ben’s blade passed Atana, it cut her across her side.

“It is Ben’s point,” pronounced Master Axiphos, “The score is 2-1, Ben.  Combatants, to your corners.”

When Master Axiphos lowered his hand, Atana fought completely defensively, allowing Ben to push her towards the end of the combat area.  She did not extend herself with attacks or counterattacks, instead resigning herself to merely answering his attacks with parries.

When she reached the end of the combat area, and could go no further, in one quick powerful motion she executed the _Jung-Ma,_ the Force Leap mastered by the practitioners of Ataru.  As she leapt over Ben’s head, she executed a perfect somersault, rotating her body in space, before landing behind him, but facing his back.  Before he could even turn around to respond, she touched him on the back.  It was a brilliant attack, exquisitely executed, making the younglings let out a collective gasp.

“It is Atana’s point.  The score is 2-2, tied.  Who ever scores the next touch will win the tournament.  Combatants, to your corners.”

Ben nodded at the announcement, his face still impassive, as he took his place.  Atana, across from him, was tense; her body taut like a coiled spring or an animal about to strike.

The moment Master Axiphos dropped his hand, she sprung, letting out a battle shout as she rushed towards Ben.  He remained utterly still, as if he had not noticed that the match had resumed.  As Atana rose into the air, raising her blade for the final strike, there was a moment of awed silence, for in that moment, inspired by the Living Force, she seemed undefeatable.

But now Ben, in that final moment, found the perfect answer to her attack, for instead of retreating from this attack, as would be expected, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.  As he fell to one knee he lifted his own blade, landing the point of his blade into her abdomen, in a perfectly executed stop-hit.  It was so calmly and simply executed that for a few moments those watching did not believe what they had seen.  Even Atana, who managed to somehow roll forward after the hit and stagger to her feet, had a face of disbelief despite being the one to feel the touch.

Master Axiphos spoke, incredulously, his voice very quiet.  “It is _Ben’s_ point.  The final score is 3-2, _Ben_.”

Ben stood up, brushing off his knees, and straightened up to face Atana.  He did not seem triumphant in his victory, not even when the younglings burst into applause for such an incredible stop-hit.  Atana took a moment to catch her breath, for the hit knocked the breath out of her.  She stood facing Ben, her hand on the bruise where the last touch landed, as they bowed to each other, and then to Master Axiphos.  Ben, ignoring continued applause of the younglings, started to walk away, but found Atana was blocking his way.  He looked up at her, questioningly.

Atana smiled, throwing her arms around him in an enthusiastic embrace.  “That was _wonderful_ , Ben!” she exclaimed, “The _best_ match I have ever had.  _Thank you_!”  To this, the younglings clapped louder and a few cheered.

Ben stiffened a little in her embrace, but did not immediately pull away.  He said something so softly in return that only Atana could have heard what he said.  It could have been, “You are welcome.”  He then stepped back from her, acknowledging the praise of the other younglings with an awkward jerk of his head, before striding away into the crowd, leaving Atana standing alone to be the recipient of the crowd’s praise.

“ _Arrogant_ ,” Qui-Gon breathed, to himself, watching the boy walk away.

Yoda shook his head, thinking to himself, _No, something else this is._

Master Axiphos spoke over their applause, “You now see to what level we should be aspiring.  Brilliant bout, _both_ of you.  You are all dismissed.”

But instead of leaving, the younglings, as well as the Masters who were watching the bouts, stayed to discuss the tournament, and in particular the exceptional final contest.

Yoda leaned over to Qui-Gon, and asked, “Meet with them now will you?”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” Qui-Gon asked, rolling his eyes, “I suppose now is as good as time as any.  I know there is no point in trying to put it off until you forget.”

To this, Yoda did not respond.  Instead, he gestured to the closest youngling, a Twi’lek named Ker’Ux, who quickly hurried over to the two Masters.

“Yes, Master Yoda?” asked Ker’Ux.

“Speak with Atana, and then after, speak with Ben we will.  Please, to us, call them.”

“Yes, Master Yoda, of course.”  Ker’Ux, bowing, went to find the two younglings.

In a few moments, Atana had come before them, still glowing with a light sweat.  Her remarkable eyes, both gold and green at once, shone with warmth as she bowed low to the two Masters.

“Master Yoda, Master Qui-Gon,” she said, her low voice warm with sincere pleasure.  Qui-Gon, observing her closely, could see that she was not truly beautiful, for her features were too strong and too large for classical attractiveness, but there was such liveliness and animation in her face that she was far more compelling than others merely beautiful, and it was impossible to look away from her amazing eyes.

“I must congratulate you,” stated Qui-Gon.

“Thank you, Master Qui-Gon.  I am very pleased to have made it to the final round,” the girl stated, modestly.

“You came very close to winning that final round.”

“Yes, but he deserved to win.  Clearly, he was better than me,” she stated matter-of-factly, without resentment.

Qui-Gon nodded, “Still.  You are very good.”

The girl smiled, “It is easy to be good at what one loves.”

“Perhaps,” Qui-Gon replied, but he liked her answer.  “So you love lightsaber combat?”

“Not the combat, exactly,” she said, thoughtfully, “it is more like being able to truly perceive another.  In combat, the true nature of your opponent is often revealed.  It is one way to be brought outside oneself, and have a true understanding of another.”

“I have often thought that as well,” agreed Qui-Gon softly.  “Through combat, you can often see others as they truly are, revealing their deepest mysteries.”  He went on, more briskly, “And you want that, to truly understand others?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, as if the answer was obvious.  “How else are we to have compassion for others, if we do not understand them?”

Qui-Gon nodded.  When he spoke again his voice was still soft, but his eyes were intently on the girl.  “So, Atana, you believe that compassion is an important virtue for Jedi?”

“No, Master Qui-Gon,” she said, correcting him, but smiling with a beautiful flash of white teeth, “I believe it is the _only_ one.”

Qui-Gon looked at her in silence, struck by her words.  _Ah, here is one after my own heart_ , he thought.

When Qui-Gon did not respond, Atana continued, “Like with the hypothetical Jedi in Master Tikkon’s lesson today, you could question his actions, but not his motivation, which was compassion.  From such motivation, no actions, however unconventional, can be wrong.”

“ _Yes_ ,” agreed Qui-Gon, with emphasis.  He spared giving Yoda a self-satisfied look, but went on.  “I see by your _lethe_ cord that you were chosen for the _Katharmos_.”

She touched the green cord at the hollow of her throat.  “Yes, Master Qui-Gon,” she admitted, simply.  “I was given a new name for I was found to have deficiencies.”

“Such as?”

“Too emotional,” she conceded, with a wry smile.

“ _Ekcheo._ Water,” murmured Qui-Gon, finally smiling a little.

“Yes,” she agreed.  “But it does not bother me.  I accept that I am not without fault.  I hope to take inspiration from the ceremony to improve, but…” Atana trailed off, uncertain how to finish her thought.

“You are not sure you will be able to learn detachment,” Qui-Gon finished for her quietly, almost tenderly.

“ _Yes_ , Master Qui-Gon,” she agreed, looking up into his eyes, “But this is the path I must follow if I am to find a Master.  And I wish above all things to find my Master, for the bond between Master and Padawan is the highest form of love among the Jedi.”

“I am sure you will find a Master very soon, Atana, for you have many exceptional qualities,” answered Qui-Gon, his voice gentle.

“Thank you, Master Qui-Gon,” she said, smiling at him.  Qui-Gon could not help himself and smiled back.  Their smiles were between two who truly understood one another.

There was a moment of silence, but not an awkward one.  Yoda broke it.  “My congratulations, I offer to you, as well.  A most gifted student, you are.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda.”

“Dismissed, you are.”

“Yes, Master Yoda, Master Qui-Gon.”  Atana bowed to each of them before rejoining her friends.

“Well?” asked Yoda, pretending an idle curiosity.

“I think Atana will make an excellent Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, firmly.  To Yoda’s quick smile, Qui-Gon added, deadpan, “For _someone else_.  As I am just looking.”

“Hmmpf,” Yoda snorted, but he was clearly amused.

Seeing Atana leave, the Twilek youngling Ker’Ux sent Ben to see the two Jedi Masters.  From a distance, Qui-Gon had had the impression that Ben was a good-looking boy, with pleasing features under a crop of fair hair, but, seeing him more closely, it could be seen that he was actually much better looking, for he was exceptionally handsome.  His features were white, even, and perfect, from his high forehead to the definite cleft in his chin.  Strangely, the boy seemed either totally unaware or utterly disinterested in his physical beauty, for there was nothing in his affect that suggested he was aware of it.  His blue eyes were watchful, observing carefully everything around him, but they revealed nothing.

Observing him closely for the first time Qui-Gon noticed the green-braided _lethe_ cord. _So he has also undergone the Katharmos, along with Atana.  Strange that some of the best students are found wanting,_ Qui-Gon thought.  _Although, I understand it a little better with **him**._

Ben bowed first to Master Yoda, then to Master Qui-Gon.  He then stiffly stood before them, with his head angled downwards, so that he did not have to meet the Masters’ eyes.

 _Perhaps he is only shy.  Maybe_ _I am being too hard on this boy_.   “How old are you?” Qui-Gon found himself asking.  Qui-Gon thought the boy looked to be no older than ten, for he was small and painfully thin, but he was in a youngling class of twelve and thirteen year olds.

“I am twelve,” said Ben, still not looking at him.  Despite looking younger than his age, this answer gave Qui-Gon a pause.  There was a grave and adult dignity to Ben when he spoke, which made him seem older than that.

“I must congratulate you on your victory, Blon- _Ben_.”  Qui-Gon said, quickly correcting himself.  “You are already a master strategist, despite your young age.  How did you learn this?”

“I watch others,” the boy replied, and then fell silent.

 _Getting words from this one is close to impossible,_ Qui-Gon thought, with a spasm of irritation.

“How else learned, have you?” asked Yoda, trying to smooth over the exchange.

“I have read many texts by the lightsaber masters, including Tamias, and Agnosia, as well as Bakchos, among others.”

Qui-Gon nodded, impressed despite himself.  _He is intelligent, at any rate._ “Deep reading for a youngling.  Many _Masters_ have trouble with those texts.  Tell me, which Master do you prefer reading the most?”

“Why, _Tamias_ , of course,” Ben answered, as if it were obvious, “for he is the greatest among the lightsaber theorists.”

“Tamias is _not_ the greatest of theorists,” corrected Qui-Gon.  “ _Bakchos_ was the greatest.”

At this, without lifting his head, Ben lifted his eyes towards Qui-Gon, although he did not meet his eyes.  “Bakchos lacks discipline and control,” Ben coolly replied, shaking his head.  “If how we use our lightsaber is an extension of our mental state, then certainly _Tamias_ is correct when he states our combat should be one of detachment from passion, and of keeping correct distance.”

“Tamias believes this is the case, but only because he was a Makashi Master,” stated Qui-Gon curtly, irritated at the boy’s pedantic tone.

“And Makashi, along with Soresu, are the greatest of forms, for they are the most pure, in terms of Jedi philosophy,” replied the boy, evenly.

Qui-Gon suppressed another spasm of irritation.  He did _not_ need to receive a lecture on Makashi.  He had heard from Dooku far too much, and for too many years about the virtues of Makashi, for that was Dooku’s chosen form, the form of grace and control.  He could still remember Dooku chastising him over his choice of Ataru, the lifted eyebrow as he coolly dismissed Qui-Gon’s beloved lightsaber form as “ridiculous acrobatics.”

“Really?  And what of _Ataru_ , and of trusting in the will of the Force?” asked Qui-Gon, more sharply then he had intended.  “For, as Bakchos states, it is the awareness of our own emotions, not intellectual philosophizing, which allows us to contact the Force.”

“We should always trust in the Force,” agreed the boy, unruffled.  “However, emotion, without discipline, can go astray.”

 _This boy is a second Dooku,_ Qui-Gon thought to himself, not a complement.  “So the way of Ataru is not a true path for Jedi?  What of Master Yoda?  Ataru is his form.”

Before answering, Ben glanced towards Master Yoda, who nodded for him to answer.  “Master Yoda, I believe, is a Master of all the forms, yet chooses Ataru to compensate for his size.  I would not presume to assume Ataru to be the philosophy by which he lives.  But, when he does practice the Ataru form, it is clear his passions well controlled through strict discipline.”  Though Ben spoke articulately and confidently, he still refused to meet Qui-Gon’s eyes.

Qui-Gon did not notice, so irritated he was at the boy’s patronizing tone.  _Not shy,_ Qui-Gon thought.  _I was right the **first** time.  **Arrogant**._

When Qui-Gon did not reply, Ben continued, “Like in our example today in Master Tikkon’s class, that hypothetical Jedi _meant_ well. However, he did not temper his feelings with reason.  He was too emotional.  _Chaotic_.  The exact opposite of what a Jedi should strive to be, for we must always temper our emotions with reason, and avoid attachment.”

“ _Should_ we?” Qui-Gon snapped.  At Yoda’s look, he took a deep breath, calming his emotions.  He went on, more gently, “If you intellectualize your entire existence, you do not experience life, you experience thought.  And it is _life_ the Force draws upon, and the _will_ , not the mind.  Do you understand?”

For the first time the boy seemed a little doubtful of himself, but he shook his head, “If we do not control our feelings and our attachments, we will be lost to the Dark.”

“No, controlling our feelings and attachments _IS_ a path to the Dark.  We must let our feelings and emotions, and even our attachments, flow through us, just as the Force flows through us.  It is this which allows us a connection to the Living Force.”

“I will consider what you have said.”

Qui-Gon blew out his breath, silently.  “That is all,” he said, shortly.  “Congratulations again.” 

“Thank you,” Ben answered.  The boy carefully bowed to him, then to Master Yoda, before returning to his class.

After the boy left, Master Yoda turned to Qui-Gon, and asked, “What think you of the boy?”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes.  “Arrogant, cold, and sour as unripe fruit.  Good luck to whatever Master picks him.”

Yoda leaned forward, and looked directly into Qui-Gon’s face, and, with a sense of wry humor, pointed out to Qui-Gon, “Ah, but _teach_ him you did, more than the girl”

Qui-Gon looked at Yoda, as if the aged Jedi Master had suddenly gone senile.

“You are truly _insane_ ,” Qui-Gon exclaimed, shaking his head, laughing a little.  “I spent only _two_ _minutes_ in his company, and already I felt extremely irritated.”

Yoda chuckled, “Fault of the youngling, or fault of the _Master_ this is?”

Qui-Gon made an exasperated noise, “It does not matter whose fault it is, because I am _not_ taking him as a Padawan.”

“Take him not, then,” Yoda said, indifferently.

Qui-Gon had seen Yoda do this before, and he was not having it.  Yoda would agree amiably to whatever was said, but in fact was merely biding his time, knowing he would eventually get his own way.  Which he usually did.

“I am _not_ taking him,” Qui-Gon insisted, again, a little more stridently.

“Understand do I.  Take him you will not,” Yoda agreed, affably.

But Qui-Gon was not fooled.  He could see the light of amusement in Yoda’s gray eyes.  Master Yoda, I mean it!” exclaimed Qui-Gon, in exasperation.  “I will take absolutely _anyone_ before I take this boy!”

Yoda gave him a slow smile.  “Which one then, will you take?” asked Yoda, slyly, his gray eyes twinkling.

Qui-Gon suddenly realized what he had said.  He let out a deep breath, annoyed at his turn of phrase, he was usually so careful with words.  But talking about the irritating youngling had made him speak rashly.  Qui-Gon did not know whether to curse in anger, or to laugh at Yoda’s audacity.  So, after a moment, he did what came more naturally to him.  He laughed.  He laughed a deep, loud, laugh, his shoulders shaking.  He laughed so loud that the younglings still in the room looked towards him, startled at the sound.

And as he laughed, Qui-Gon lifted his hand and brought it to his chest as he bowed his head, which made Yoda laugh as well.  For he had saluted Yoda with the customary gesture Jedi made during lightsaber drills, to indicate to their opponent that they surrendered.

 


End file.
